Losing My Religion
by Insidiously
Summary: A short oneshot describing what's going on in our favorite angel, Castiel's, head. While making a speech to the unconscious Dean, Cas is interrupted by none other than Crowley with an interesting proposition. Mild Destiel. First SPN story for me!


**Author's Note: Hello there! This is my first ever Supernatural fic. I have roleplayed the fandom before but never actually written so please, please keep this in mind when reviewing. It's just some semi-light Destiel for you all. A take on the upcoming Crowley/Cas plot. Note that this was written before the airing of Episode 20 of season 6.**

**Disclaimer: I don't own nor am affiliated with Supernatural or any of the characters!**

_**Losing my Religion**_

Castiel stood silently in the tattered, musty motel room located just off of the closest highway. He inhaled softly, hardly daring to move as his eyes rested on the still form of the being in front of him. Lying at an odd angle and snoring slightly on the weathered mattress was Dean Winchester, a young human man who was oblivious to the fact that there was, indeed, an angel watching him while he slept. It was like something out of a child's prayer. Castiel sighed again and placed a pale finger to the bridge of his nose. Even in his unconscious form, Dean was intoxicating. The angel looked around the room, eyes pausing on the heaving mass that was the younger Winchester boy, Sam, also out cold. The boy would be unable to wake up from his slumber until Cas was through with his brother; he had made sure of it. Silently, Castiel apologized.

The angel's attention was once more drawn to Dean as he stirred, flipping from his stomach to his back. Castiel felt himself tense but the man's eyes never flicked open and so he presumed he was still safe to say what he had come to get off of his chest.

"I'm sorry, Dean." Cas whispered, his voice barely audible even to his own tuned ears. "There is something you don't know."

The angel toyed with the idea of sitting on the ground to make his speech but decided against it, instead choosing to perch himself on the very edge of Dean's bed. He placed a hand on the man's covered ankle before continuing.

"It's over for me. Has been for quite some time… There was never a shot that I could keep the fate of heaven from happening. I failed and now-"

His voice broke and he lowered his head into his waiting palms, stifling a thick sob that seemed to claw its way out of the back of his throat. He didn't know what he was doing, sharing this fact with a passed-out human. The old Cas would be praying to his God, begging for some sort of help. But he couldn't bring himself to take that step without at least telling Dean, whether he knew it or not, what was happening. Castiel looked at the face of the man again, a strange sensation building up in his chest. The books and movies called it 'love' but Cas was sure it was something more than that; something more than wanting to hold Dean in his arms and have him forever. It was more than anything he had felt during his time in heaven.

The angel was on the verge of beginning his speech again, with the fine accompaniment of tears, when a faint popping sound from behind caught his senses. Castiel froze, his brow furrowed, and turned with only a hint of apprehension to see where the sound had originated. Standing only a foot behind him wearing a midnight colored suit and a smirk fit to kill stood the demon king, Crowley.

"What are you doing here?" Castiel muttered, trying his best to sound intimidating when nursing a voice laced with tears. He stood to his feet at once. The demon smiled lightly and looked down at his cufflink, straightening it in an almost robotic fashion. Cas scowled.

"I have a proposition for you, chap." Crowley said, voice thick with a faux-sweetness. "A little deal that'll fix the problem you've been having with the boys upstairs."

Castiel glared at the man, every fiber of his being telling him to draw the silver blade stuck up his sleeve out and force the incessant bastard to leave the Winchester's temporary abode. But he paused.

"There is nothing someone like you could do to help an Angel of the Lord." He retorted, glare still perched upon his face. The Demon sighed dramatically and turned to lean upon the mahogany desk to his left.

"You angels and your closed minds…" He mumbled, a hint of vanity playing on his lips. "You really must recall who you're dealing with, Darling. King of Hell, remember?"

Cass felt a lump grow in the back of his throat as Crowley spoke. There was something nagging at the back of his mind – gathering help from demons to help persuade some of the heavy hitters in the garrison wasn't a plan anyone had tried before. It had no predecessor of failure. It could be done. And with this devilish leader under his wing, so to speak, there could be a major advancement.

The angel's eyes narrowed, information spinning in his mind, "And why would you want to help me."

Crowley's grin increased, an infuriatingly sharp smile masking his features before speaking: "I want purgatory."

Castiel's mouth slumped open in surprise. The defrayment of purgatory could spell death for the human race. It was not a bargaining chip worth using, no way-.

"And," The Demon continued, sensing the notion of panicked refusal flying through the air. "As a limited time bonus offer, I'll let you keep your little pets." He nodded first to Dean then Sam before focusing his gaze back on the angel. Crowley's head tilted. "It's a good offer… And I'm only making it 'cause I like you." He emphasized his point by poking the air in the direction of the angel.

Cas turned his head behind him, eyes focused on the eldest Winchester son.

"Think about it." The king chided. Castiel attempted to speak again but when he returned his gaze to where Crowley was standing only a moment prior he discovered the man missing. Cas inhaled deeply, his vessel's pulse pounding in his ears. With God out of the picture he had known that he would have to resort to more… unethical means of controlling the population of Heaven but this was more than he bargained for. The angel took a few paces around the side of the bed, stopping just short of the wall so that he was parallel to Dean's face.

Slowly, Castiel lowered his lips to the sleeping man's forehead, leaving a light dusting kiss. If there was some chance to save his homeland _and_ the Winchesters then he had to take it from eternal damnation. Even if it meant giving into the enemy, it was all for the greater purpose.

"I'm sorry, Dean." The angel repeated, this time for an entirely different purpose. "Forgive me."

And with that he was gone, leaving Sam and Dean with there complicated lives, but only for the moment. Only until he could complete his would-be deal with Crowley and save all of their lives.


End file.
